


Skinny Little Bitch

by BARALAIKA



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy VIII, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Dirty Talk, Foot Fetish, Humiliation, Large Cock, Leather Kink, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Nosebleed, Orientation Play, Verbal Humiliation, monstrous cock, painal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BARALAIKA/pseuds/BARALAIKA
Summary: Commission. Squall's first time is fucking brutal.





	Skinny Little Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Squall gets to grow up in the fucking endless void of video game time. He's stuck as KH-verse Leon to me, so don't try and "AH-HA, GOTCHA!!!" me on him being seventeen in his home game, I don't give a shit lmao

“Is that all you got? I should’ve known a skinny little bitch like you wouldn’t be able to take it,” came a vicious sneer from above the young man’s head.

Squall’s body ached harder than it ever had in his life— this new foe was deadly, kicking him around like he was a kid from the Garden again even though the years had ground him into a hardened man, stolen the childish roundness to his features and cut an imposing, solid silhouette. Despite all of that, though, this man dwarfed him completely. Squall was not the tallest of men, yet he was no less masculine for it— his muscles were coiled tighter than a whip and struck harder than one too, with a narrow waist and wider shoulders that came in his last straggling years of growth that stubbornly refused to stop until well after his commemorative beers as he came of age.

For all of the teasing and torment that he endured for his straggling behind other youths (or rather,  _ one _ of them), Squall wore his maturity with a sigh of relief and a welcome embrace of the finality it brought. He was handsome and beautiful at once and it proved enough to lure the wrong sort of man in to him.

“What, you don’t wanna talk?” Taunted the burly blonde motherfucker, a behemoth of a man with a strange manner to himself; he strode around in black like it was some sort of statement ( _ Squall couldn’t speak on that one _ ) and wore his blonde hair long-ish, shaggy and in outdated, feathered layers that didn’t seem to suit the rest of him. The cruel glint of his eye didn’t seem at home, didn’t seem  _ right _ somehow… and yet it was fully at home. Emptiness hung about him in great swathes, cloying at the air as if to suck Squall down into despondency with him and hold his shoulders beneath it to drown him as deeply as he did, too.

Squall simply followed him with narrowed eyes and a primed gunblade, a wide stance and the caution of a soldier. The other man swaggered about like a brawler despite his grasp on a crystalline longspear and dove to and fro in a manner more befitting a freight train; each clash of their weapons had Squall sweating beneath his fringe until locks of hair stuck to his scarred forehead in damp lines and made his teeth grit until he felt them creak in their sockets. This handsome, imposing stranger handled him so effortlessly… as if he were simply toying with a puppy, entertaining its soft jaws with a tough forearm. That in itself was an insult.

Despite his single-minded instinct to fight, Squall was not stupid. Far from it. He knew when he was outclassed and it seemed that his foe knew this, too. His attacks grew more and more cruel in intention, playing with the youth in his grasp— a strike to the back of his legs, a rap to his hands, a clout to the back of the head. He forced Squall into increasingly difficult positions to parry, their ridiculousness shameful in itself, but even worse when he  _ missed _ .

The staff swept wide and forced Squall to fold himself backwards to duck a shining blade to his face but before he could dance away and right himself, the weapon swung back around and clashed with the back of Squall’s knees. With a choked cry, Squall crumpled… directly into the shaft of the staff, the spinning arc cracking into the bridge of his nose.

Everything exploded. Lights sparked and crackled across Squall’s vision and he slumped to the ground knees first, head whirling in a violent storm that ate all comprehension and robbed him of coherent thought. When was the last time he’d tasted stupor this thick, this crippling? That was his only remaining thought as his vision swam in sickening ripples as the man approached, nothing but boots and the tip of a ice-shedding spear.

“I knew it. You ain’t shit, are ya?”

_ What…? _

“You’re just like the rest. All talk, all weapon, no show. Disappointing. Guys like you aren’t good for anything other than taking dick, are ya?” The man mused, as he crouched down in front of Squall’s blank eyes— they struggled to focus up as him, even as a hand loomed down and pulled at one heavy eyelid. “I thought you were supposed to be tough, Squall. Or Leon. Whatever you call yourself, it doesn’t matter. There are better things to call a waste’a flesh, don’t you think?”

_ A waste…? That’s not… _

“You don’t know me, do you? Tch. Lightning was right. You are pretty self-absorbed, but that face makes up for it. You better know the name you’re gonna be screaming… it’s Snow. Got it?”

_ Snow?  _ ** _This_ ** _ is Snow? _

He didn’t seem like the man that Lightning described. This guy seemed completely devoid of the idiotic air she’d talked about… no, this one was cold, empty, filling a hole in his being with throwing his weight around as if it would serve some kind of sick comfort. Her eyes had been misty, reminiscing about a kind man who’d sought to marry her sister and loved her desperately despite being so foolhardy, her regret for how she’d thought of him, her sorrow for their loss, how it affected them both… but he’d taken it worse. Significantly so.

Squall’s eyes narrowed. Snow’s nasty grin fell.

“The fuck’s your problem, kid?” Snow growled, boosted himself back up to his feet and loomed over his prey, a snarl curling at his lips to bear his teeth. “You want more?”

“Mmph—!” Squall tried to shout out, but Snow’s boot came down hard against the back of his head in a quick stomp and bloodied his nose against the ground. As involuntary as his position was, something about it seemed  _ right _ somehow. Almost as if he  _ liked _ it. Gradually, he looked up into Snow’s leering and full-body shuddered, hands wrapping around the bigger, older man’s black boot as if it were a lover’s hips. In lieu of words, he squeezed and dipped his head to plant a reverent kiss on the steel cap, which gave him a moment to deeply sniff the decadent scent of immaculately-kept leather. Fit for a king.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good boy. You wanna show me how much you love my boots? If you’re real good, I’ll let you suck my toes. How’s  _ that _ for a deal?”

Sniffing up his own blood almost made Squall miss Snow’s demands. Either way, he nodded in submissive joy and felt his muscles tense and relax, tense and relax, as if his virgin body knew how to act for a dominant male. Blood flushed through his body as he flared with arousal ( _ or was it adrenaline? The two crossed paths so often anyway— _ ) and a shift of his hips gave him away.

“Woah! You’re popping a boner already, kid?” Snow barked, a laugh of incredulous glee that pulled something deep out of him. A shred of joy, of something of himself from long ago. He’d lost count of the years, but that moment spoke louder than years of misery and a wish for death. No, this was living. Fresh meat to torment and wring pleasure from without care of consequence. “For someone with such a serious face, you sure are sick, huh?”

Squall didn’t deign him with a response. Rather, he ran his thumbs up the sharp bones of Snow’s ankles beneath the polished hide of his boots and started to part his lips wider and wider with each noisy, bloody smooch. Each gasp for breath felt like his resistance fading, yet it wasn’t enough for Snow.

“Hey, kid. You deaf or somethin’?” Snow snapped his foot up, rolling onto the ball quickly to clash with Squall’s face— the blunt impact made the youth splutter and wince. “You answer me when I ask you a question. You never learn manners with that scar?”

Another shudder. Squall swallowed and rose his head, stunningly blue eyes masked beneath long, dark eyelashes and a curtain of sweaty hair.

“I’ll repeat for ya.  _ You… sure… are… sick… huh? _ ” Snow sneered, his grin nasty, edged,  _ gorgeous _ .

Squall’s mouth hung open as he tried to form the words. His mouth tasted like blood and his nose dripped a fresh stream of claret, white teeth stained pink and red in-between, but he was entranced all the same.

“Y…yeah,” he managed, struggling to speak at all.

“That it? Man, you straight guys aren’t much fun. We’ll have ya singin’ soon enough, kid.”

Squall swallowed.

“ _ Make me _ .”

Snow liked the sound of that.

  
  


The laces of Snow’s boots slid through their eyelets easily, smooth and silken against the abrasion of the man’s control. Squall fumbled, pulled roughly, panted desperately to free Snow’s feet and was eventually rewarded with hot, stinking soles wrapped in sweaty, black socks. Each desperate pant for breath he took wheezed heavy with blood and where his nose dripped onto cloth, his mouth followed. No guidance needed. As if it had been hard coded into him, the gorgeous young man sucked Snow’s massive, hunky feet— socks and all— as if they were some kind of delicacy.

Snow scoffed, folded his arms and just  _ watched _ .

Carved, beautiful lips wrapped around his heel, his arch, over the peak of his toes and sucked as many of them into his mouth as he could. Dreamy eyes closed as he absorbed himself completely in his task and was swept away in the all-encompassing, sense-dominating experience. Sucking and slurping dominated his ears, the shapes he traced with lip and tongue filled his mouth and leather, sweat and musk invaded his nose to burn through so hard that it seemed to fill his skull.

He was in such a trance that when he raised his eyes and his head, Squall didn’t expect to see Snow unzipping his leathers, shirt pulled open and body bared. Frozen in place, he squeezed Snow’s soles involuntarily.

“Wh… what the hell…?” Squall winced, the sight before him so bizarre that he could barely process it.

Where any normal human would have pubic hair, Snow did not— in its place, dark, sick corruption accumulated and closed around the shapes where he guessed Snow’s cock laid beneath or inside or  _ whatever _ , monstrously thick and only growing as he handled it. He jerked himself, the shapes shifting and twisting, around and around into something larger and larger with each surge of eldritch power and vulgar pulse.

“This your first time, kid? Ah man, I feel kinda sorry for you… this ain’t exactly beginner’s material, y’know? I’m gonna enjoy it, though,” sneered Snow, while he savoured the horror on Squall’s face as if it were some kind of fine fucking wine. His horror of a cock began to drip from its bloated, ever so slightly pointed tip— what started as a bead grew slowly, accumulating weight until it started to hang in a great, vile string of viscous pre more befitting a beast than a man. “Well? You gonna get acquainted or are ya gonna make me smash those pretty teeth outta your skull?”

That was all Squall needed to be told, as he scrambled up to his hands and knees and took the few shaky steps on them to come face to face with Snow’s unholy affront of a dick. Only when he reached one gloved hand out did Squall realise that he was quaking, lips hung open as he took a grip of Snow from the base and used him as an anchor to raise himself towards the pulsing, terrifying thing that made a mockery of everything that should have been a cock. Gingerly, he let his tongue touch the turgid mass of black and purple; it rippled as if  _ appreciative _ and Snow sneered down, his hand wrapping around the back of Squall’s head.

Urged on, the youth wrapped his lips around it and let his tongue slide over the underside. Snow tasted like sweat and body, with an undercurrent of acrid, sickening  _ wrongness _ beneath it and Squall knew that he would never find it anywhere else. So bizarre, so unique, horrifying and intense, yet strangely intoxicating… he was falling for it, for the way that smooth plates seemed to shift as if they were alive and as he worked towards the dripping slit, the rim raised and almost lipped, the taste of body grew all the more apparent. It was then that Snow decided to tighten his grip and  _ smeared _ Squall across the head; the slimy trail of his hanging, viscous pre slapped into the young man’s face and neck and began a snail’s trail down his collar bone and towards his ripped chest, while the head shifted itself into something narrower to fit his mouth more adequately.

“ _ Gngh— _ !” Squall gagged, as Snow jabbed towards the back of his throat without a care for his comfort or his obvious inexperience. The clash of teeth against flesh didn’t seem to bother Snow in the slightest and he took it in stride with feet wide and sneering grin firmly in place. 

“I’m gettin’ bored here, kiddo… you want all this up your pretty little pussy or what?” Taunted Snow, as he gave Squall a look of played-up frustration. “Some of us have places to be, scores to settle… y’know,  _ important grown-up business. _ As much as I’d love for you to slobber away all day… yeah. Well. Let’s get a move on, huh?”

That chiding was infuriating and yet it made Squall throb. Where did this come from, anyway? He was getting off on being treated like shit, as if he were no more than the shit on the bottom of Snow’s spit-shone boots and  _ fuck _ , he was into it. He was agonisingly into it. With a slick  _ pop _ and a grunt, Squall detached himself from Snow’s inhuman prick and leant back on his haunches, unsure of himself. What did he do now? He’d never really… done this with girls, either. A hopeless virgin, flushed scarlet and wincing away from his duty.

The proverbial blood was in the water and Snow could taste it.

“Come on, dumbshit! Get your pants down and stick your ass up! Fuck, how  _ stupid _ can one bitch be?” Barked the larger man, loud and sudden enough to make Squall jump— he turned around and fumbled with his belt buckle, but that wasn’t good enough. Snow scoffed, shoved the youth aside and rose to his knee behind Squall, then leaned possessively around him. He ripped the catch of his belt open, tore apart the button and zipper of his leathers and grabbed his underwear and pants in the same grip, then  _ yanked _ them down hard enough to expose Squall to the air. His cock sprung free and with it, his balls, nestled beneath smooth, natural pubes and the enticing scent of masculine sweat; Snow took a long, deep sniff of the first, most pungent plume of stink… then pushed his prey down again to tug his pants down his legs. It was all too quick for Squall, whose stunned silence and dull sense of shock contributed very little to the cause of disrobing him— he kicked his boots off and let them fall to the ground when Snow struggled with them.

Sufficiently stripped, Snow wrapped his colossal hands around Squall’s waist and slung one leg up and over the lad’s body until his foot came down on his head, while the other planted alongside his hip. All Squall could do was gasp for breath and hope that Snow wouldn’t break his neck with a single shove of his leg…

The pointed head of Snow’s eldritch cock rubbed up and down Squall’s terrified, twitching, pristine little boypussy… and without mercy, the old sadist dug the very tip in. His body weight and angle dominated Squall so completely that the poor guy couldn’t help but whimper and tense! It only made it all worse.

“Hey! C’mon, bitch, push like you’re gonna shit, okay? Don’t make this worse on yourself,” Snow chided, his tone just as arrogant and crude even as he endeavoured to help.

Squall swallowed. It didn’t make any kind of sense to him and may have simply been to embarrass him, but…

_ It’s just your pride, huh? It’s not that important. _

A ruptured asshole or a bruised ego? Squall took the latter option and forced his body to relax by pushing, cringing into his hands as his asshole kissed Snow’s cock and gave him the signal to drive forwards. The slobber of pre that constantly oozed from Snow’s imposing prick served as lubrication, something that Squall came to be eternally thankful for, as his virgin hole slowly split open around the shallow taper… and quickly widened. He hissed against a pain that stole his voice and made his upper body curl inwards, but Squall refused to let Snow get the best of him.

“Yeah… there you go, kiddo, you like that?” Snow growled— it took everything in him to hold back from plunging deeper and savaging Squall’s ass-cunt… but he was growing bored of the huffing and puffing, the squirming on barely even two inches of monster cock. In he went, pressing and insisting him wider and wider, stretching Squall taut around his warped prick until he felt bloated with slimy pre and the tip of a brutish cock, keening and wailing.

That was only a quarter of it.

“You got the hang of it? Doesn’t matter. Hold on, kiddo!”

And just like that, Snow  _ really _ started to fuck him.

Squall  _ howled _ .

He was being torn apart from the inside out, ripped up the middle and tortured with each smack of Snow’s huge hips against his abused ass. So why was it that every now and then, it felt… good? That his dick caught something inside of him that made his wilting dick jump and drool? Squall sobbed wordlessly as Snow dominated him completely, smashing his boypussy apart and into a mancunt, guaranteed to gape and be left a void in him forevermore.

It could have been minutes or hours. The weight of Snow’s body, the ram of his hips and the vulgar intrusion of his prick all combined into one hellish, humiliating, utterly fucking despondent and yet  _ completely hot  _ experience. Squall was left drooling, vacant-minded as he was drilled apart until his asshole ran over with black ooze as he was fucked into the ground like a lowly bitch. It was a relief when Snow’s grip tightened and his pace grew more frantic, before he bellowed, slammed the last few inches of his ridiculous cock into Squall’s savaged body… and came deep into his guts.

Pump after pump of thick, hot spunk slapped into Squall’s poor, sore guts and began to swell his taut stomach. He cramped as he flooded and bloated, enough to make him wail in a new, more bizarre agony. Snow slowly pulled himself back inch by burning inch to stuff him as full with seed as was physically possible, but Squall’s stubborn innards were determined to go with him. A cute bulge of red peeked out of his swollen hole, while Snow seemed to finish up.

“Nnnnn…  _ theeeere _ ya go, kiddo,” Snow panted as the head of his cock slopped free and with it, Squall sobbed. “That what’cha wanted all along, huh? Good boy. Real good boy.”

Snow’s foot only came off of Squall’s head when he was sure he was finished. He wiped his hideous cock off on Squall’s bare thighs ( _ what meagre skin wasn't already covered in him, that was _ ) and stood back up, tucked his cock away and scoffed.

“Look at you. Light’s gonna have a field day when I tell her what I did to her bitch-boy! Oh  _ man _ !” Snow whooped. He stepped back into his boots, snapped his fingers and phased away from Squall’s pitiable surroundings, laughter ringing after him.


End file.
